


A Subtle Sincerity

by breeeliss



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bittersweet, Confessions, F/F, Fluff & Angst, Hurt and comfort, Unrequited Love, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeeliss/pseuds/breeeliss
Summary: She almost expected for the moment that ended it all to be a little more dramatic, a little more ostentatious, a little bit more sudden. But, like everything else with Marinette it was soft. Soft like the sheets they were cuddled into. Soft like the pillows under their head. Soft like the murmur of Paris waking up on Sunday morning. Soft like the small specks of dust dancing in the slices of sunlight. Soft like Marinette’s lips.





	

**Author's Note:**

> had a strange moment the other day when i saw an old friend for the first time in years. had a lot of conflicting emotions come over me all at once, so i sort of wrote them down all at once and turned them into this.  
> enjoy my first alyanette story :)

When Alya came back from work on Saturdays, she’d always find Marinette sound asleep in her bed.

Marinette’s shift at the bakery ended before Alya’s shift at work did. At the beginning, she’d just wait until Alya was home and come right over. But Alya’s family had gotten into the habit of letting Marinette into the apartment whether Alya was there or not, so Marinette would head over right after her shift, let herself into Alya’s room, and nap in her bed for the two hours until she came home.

Alya tucked Marinette's shoes underneath the bed and dropped her coat and bag onto her desk chair. Fridays were always the days when Marinette procrastinated all her homework and stayed up until four in the morning catching up on all the designs she hadn’t finished. Coffee was enough to keep her alert to handle the registers on Saturday mornings, but she always crashed by the time she came to Alya’s house. Alya tended to let her sleep an extra hour and work on the Ladyblog in the meantime until dinner was served.

She tucked her laptop under her arm and crawled onto the left side of the bed, smiling when Marinette slid over to give Alya space while still completely unconscious. Alya opened her laptop and started to screen all of the day’s Ladyblog comments when her mother texted her from the kitchen. _Wake Marinette up at 8 for dinner. I made her favorite tonight._

Despite all the video proof in existence, Marinette still refused to believe that she drooled. Alya suspected it was because she felt bad for drooling all over her pillows even though Alya kept insisting that she didn’t mind in the least. To be honest, she found it rather adorable, right along with the fact that Marinette always woke up with her limbs splayed all over the bed, leaving Alya to scurry off to the corner of her comforter so as not to wake her.

Alya waited for her footage from yesterday to download from her phone to her computer and reached over to brush Marinette’s hair behind her ear and keep it out of her eyes. She slid her fingers in and started making slow circles against her scalp, smiling when Marinette hummed in her sleep and shifted her head just a touch.

It was a lot to keep up with Marinette. She was an anxious little thing with more energy than Alya thought could even be held inside of a person, but with a mind that was practically spilling with creativity and thoughtfulness. Marinette was always doing something — designing things in her head instead of paying attention in class, giving out dozens of class rep surveys and petitions to try and get done what she promised, plotting perfect ways to carve small blocks of time into her day to talk to her crush. That’s why it was nice to see her so still and quiet. Everything she loved about her became hushed and muted, and her charm hit her like a cool chill instead of the overwhelming passion and excitement it usually did.

Alya’s fingers stilled. Everyone always looked smaller and more vulnerable when they were asleep. Whenever Marinette was like this, Alya had this strange desire to gather her up in her arms, tuck her head under her chin, and make sure that nothing and no one could ever hurt her, because Marinette wasn’t a person that deserved to be hurt. It was sort of like what Alya felt when she watched her little sisters sleep, but not quite. This feeling left her restless and wanting, like there were supposed to be words to describe what she meant to her, but they wouldn’t come.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Marinette’s temple, letting it linger for longer than it probably needed to. Marinette didn’t stir at all.

Alya sighed, brushed Marinette’s hair back a couple more times, and tried to focus on her blog. But the entire time up until Marinette woke up with a cute, sleepy yawn, Alya couldn’t get her mind off of how nice the warmth radiating off of Marinette felt, how nice it felt to have her so close by.

* * *

  **alya:** my darling. i love you. but you drool. here’s the photographic evidence for your records.

 **mari:** u suck. ur a liar. this photo is doctored. nice try.

* * *

 It was always a running joke in her family that whenever Alya humbly confessed to doing something wrong, it was time to start interrogating her little sisters to see who she was taking the blame for. It failed more often than it worked, but it was always hard for Alya to see her sisters start to tear up when they had their dolls and cartoons taken away. It made much more sense for Alya to get her phone or her computer taken away for an evening. Her parents always scolded her for it — “They’re never going to learn if you keep taking the credit for what they do wrong!” — but that didn’t stop her. She didn’t much care what happened to her. So long as those little girls still had smiles on their faces and still trusted Alya with their pinky promises, that’s all she really cared about.

It’s why people like Chloe always got her blood boiling — it was easy to focus on yourself and focus on your own goals. It was way harder to do the same for other people. Plus, how else were you supposed to breathe good into the world if you didn’t help others? It’s why she loved superheroes. It’s why she poured blood, sweat, and tears into showing the world how absolutely incredible Ladybug and Chat Noir were. It’s why she blew up in Chloe’s face on her first day of school because, even though she didn’t know who on Earth Marinette was at the time, she was going to do her damndest to make sure jerks left her alone.

A precious thing like Marinette sharing her last macaron with the new girl didn’t deserve anything bad to happen to her. She deserved the world.

Marinette was laying on her back on top of the park bench, resting her feet in Alya’s lap. She wasn’t a huge fan of spending lunch in the park in the middle of the winter, but Marinette loved the cold weather. Something about how inhaling all the cool air felt like it was scrubbing her insides clean and made her feel refreshed and perky. Personally, Alya was a fan of not freezing to death, but she wasn’t about to leave Marinette to hang out in the cold alone.

She was idly tracing her fingers along the runs in Marinette’s tights while Marinette blew into the cold air and watched her breath float above her head. “What about just going four straight days without sleep, and hoping that’ll give me enough courage to just straight up confess?”

Alya snorted. “I...don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Sure it does. I’ll be too tired to worry about being nervous.”

“You’ll also be too tired to worry about staying awake. We have exams coming up, you’re not depriving yourself of sleep.”

Marinette puffed out her cheeks and knocked her knees against Alya’s stomach. “You said to try something more drastic.”

“More drastic, babe. Not more stupid.”

“Ugh, well maybe that’s the problem,” Marinette groaned, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Maybe I’m thinking too much and trying to be too smart about it. Confessions always seem stupid and impulsive. Maybe that’s the secret. Throw caution to the wind. Screw everything. Act like a fool.”

Alya smirked and started drumming her fingers against Marinette’s legs. “Nothing you do for him is going to look stupid. You’re too sincere for that.”

“Well sincerity is being mistaken for friendship. Maybe stupidity can be mistaken for love.”

In Alya’s opinion, it wasn’t necessarily that Marinette’s sincerity looked platonic — it was more that it was so subtle and, ironically enough, so often thwarted that all Adrien could really do was nod, smile, and try to be nice. She always told her that she didn’t need to do anything gimmicky, didn’t need to dress up her intentions under the guise of complicated plans, chance meetings, or simple shoulder bumps in the halls for a heart flipping thrill. She only needed to get over the immediate mortification and let it warm her body with an emboldening fire that would finally let her just tell him how she felt in simple words. Alya had a suspicion that Adrien liked Marinette at least a little bit. These sorts of things just needed a push and a nudge — one gesture that would flip a switch just so and turn things in your favor.

Alya wished she knew how to be selfish enough to do that.

She reached over for Marinette’s free hand and rubbed her thumb across the backs of her knuckles. “Don’t worry, cutie. We’re gonna get him to notice you. It’ll happen sooner than you think.”

Marinette peeked out from underneath her arm. “You’re a blessing, Al.”

“Just trying to look out for you.”

Marinette tilted her head and smiled until the apples of her cheeks were pulled up high and made her eyes squint with the effort. “I know.”

Alya felt her chest clench and could hear her heart beating in her ears. She brought Marinette’s hand up to her mouth and pressed a quick kiss to her frozen fingers. Marinette immediately marveled at how warm Alya’s cheeks were and pulled Alya’s hands against her own face so that she could feel how absolutely chilled her skin was despite the healthy flush in her cheeks. She was laughing at the discovery, teasing her about her heart being too big and pumping too much blood everywhere, like it suddenly made sense why her hugs felt great and why she was the best cuddler that Marinette knew.

Funnily enough, Alya thought her too-big heart meant other things.

Mainly that painful things like sitting in the cold or helping Marinette confess to the boy she loved were worth it.

She didn’t much care what happened to her.

* * *

 

 **mari:** when i die of embarrassment tomorrow, will you still remember me?

 **alya:** you’re not gonna die. adrien won’t bite. also wow please go to bed.

 **mari:** but if i do. tell people i was like the most amazing thing to ever grace the planet. and that i died before my time.

 **alya:** my eulogy will be gorgeous i promise

 **mari:** <3 love you

* * *

 Alya always tried to backtrack to the one moment where the clouds opened up, the stars aligned, angels were singing from the heavens, the world’s axis tilted, and created the perfect conditions for her to fall in love.

People spoke about it like it was such a bewitching, powerful feeling that hit you with a force you couldn’t always handle and left you with the incalculable weight of your affections. It sounded dizzying and terrifying, but definitively focused. Like, if Alya tried hard enough, she could think back to the big bang that started this mess, unlearn it in her head, and finally come to a space where she wouldn’t feel guilty about sighing over her best friend’s smile anymore.

But the problem was that love truly didn’t work like that — it was soft and subtle. A gentle construction of tiny, refreshing, and endearing moments that would soon turn into a large body of fondness that was too large to ignore and too complex to take down. It wasn’t possible to unlearn a love like that without completely omitting the person from your being, and such a thing would physically fill Alya with dread.

So her options were to hold it in forever, or let it out to cause the damage that it inevitably would.

Because it wasn’t fair to burden Marinette with such heavy confessions. Not when she was dreaming about Adrien. Not when Alya was the center of her world, the person she cried to, the person she laughed with, the person who was meant to adore her without all the pressing complexities of romance. Not when Marinette’s “i love you’s” were so sweet, so honest, so genuine, and so abysmally platonic that Alya almost felt bad saying it back. Because she tried her best to seep her “i love you’s” in a veneer of precious friendship, but there was nothing she could do to stop the yearning in her chest from adding small sparks of plea and hope on the off chance that maybe Alya didn’t have to say anything. Maybe Marinette noticed. Maybe Marinette felt the same way. Maybe when Marinette said it back the next time, it would feel different.

It never did, even though Alya waited, and waited, and waited.

It was so hard to have so many things whirling inside of you without anywhere to put them. And God, she wanted so desperately to just eject them from her body and leave them there in the open to either be taken up or to fester. But it only stood to make Marinette uncomfortable, reduce Alya to a heartbroken wreck, or, even worse, ruin all of the beauty they’d spent the past year creating for themselves. It wasn’t fair that the choices were more saddening than they were uplifting. It wasn’t fair that Alya was meant to choose. It wasn’t fair that Alya was always going to choose to save Marinette the heartache.

In the moments when they were cuddled up so close in the same bed that Alya could feel Marinette’s exhales on her face, in the moments where Marinette pressed kisses to Alya’s cheek that lingered longer than everyone else’s, in the moments where Marinette’s entire face lit up like Christmas whenever she saw Alya after a long weekend or a long break….Alya thought that maybe she could decide to be selfish just this once. Maybe this was where she said it. Maybe this was where she could finally unpack her secret and air it out for Marinette to see if only to give her room to breathe.

But the words would get caught in her throat whenever she tried, and the moment would be gone. Marinette would carry on as if nothing had changed, and Alya would swallow the rawness and distract herself with crushing hugs, cheek squishing, and raspberries blown on the side of necks to alleviate the burn.

And until Alya got the courage to risk ruining everything, that’s how it would stay. Alya was excellent at keeping secrets, and she was an expert at keeping her own.

* * *

  **mari:** did you want to tell me something before?

 **alya:** when?

 **mari:** before last class. when you were holding onto me and saying we needed to talk.

 **alya:** oh. i mean i just

 **alya:** i wanted to know if you wanted to come over today. history is confusing me.

 **mari:** oh of course. you don’t need to ask! was that really all?

 **alya:** lol yeah that was it. sorry for worrying you.

* * *

 “Alright, you want me to customize the players, fix the layout the way you told me, and then do what else?”

Alya was spinning in the desk chair next to Nino who was staring at his desktop and fiddling with the settings of the Ladyblog. She leaned over and squinted at the screen. “Um….the buffering speed on the last three videos have been a little messed up. Can you speed those up?”

Nino clicked around and pulled up the raw footage from yesterday’s akuma attack in another window. “Huh. I mean they shouldn’t be slow at all. They’re the same resolution as all the other ones. Might just be your computer. But I’ll check it real quick.”

“Thanks.” Her phone buzzed four times before she picked it up and started answering all the messages that Marinette was sending her in quick succession and in all caps. “Do you guys have any snacks downstairs?”

Nino glared at her. “No, just the rest of those chocolate croissants that you freakin’ _inhaled_ just now.”

Alya reached a foot out and nudged Nino in the shoulder hard enough to make him almost fall out of his chair. “I had a small lunch, leave me alone.”

“Keep kicking me and I’m gonna make your blog background dirt brown. _And_ I’ll change the admin password.”

“Rude.”

“Just sit still, will you? Unless you want me to screw this up.”

Alya smirked and propped her feet up on the desk, laughing when Nino flinched and put a protective arm around his monitor as if he were afraid she was going to kick it. She had to remember to think of someway to thank Nino for all the work he put into this site for her. She wasn’t even sure he was as enthusiastic about Ladybug and Chat Noir as she was, but for some reason he was always eager to help her film distance shots of fights from the roof of his apartment and even helped build up her blog from the hastily made Tumblr page that it was in the beginning. Nino said that it was because he was bored and he liked messing with videos and websites, but Alya suspected that was the explanation he gave to keep from getting too sentimental about friendship and favors, so she merely accepted it with a secret smile.

He said he was eyeing a new set of headphones that were just released. Alya had some money left in her savings from her paychecks. Maybe she could scrounge up something for his birthday.

Alya’s phone was blowing up again with long lines of emojis and frantic messages, and she wished she could scrounge up the amusement that she was usually able to when Marinette started panicking like this. She let her fingers hover over the keyboard as she struggled to find an appropriate response.

Nino was staring at her from the corner of his eyes and cleared his throat. “Mind if I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Not that I mind you coming over here, you know you can bug me whenever you want,” Nino prefaced. “But it’s Saturday. What’s the miracle you and Marinette aren’t at your house?”

“We cancelled the sleepover tonight.”

“Oh. Mari’s busy?”

Alya sighed out through her nose and cradled her cheek in her hand. “Yeah, uh….well, she’s on a date. You know. With Adrien?”

Nino’s brows rose. “Oh crap, that’s tonight? I was about to ask why the hell your phone was blowing up.”

“Yeah,” Alya snorted. “She’s kind of nervous. But I guess….I mean it sounds like it’s going okay. He isn’t gonna make it awful for her, so that’s good.”

She really didn’t mean to sound so bitter when she said it, but Nino immediately picked up on the tone and turned away from the computer. He bit the inside of his cheek and frowned. “....how are you feeling about all this?”

Alya shrugged. “....it’s whatever. She was so excited today. I should be happy for her.”

“But you’re not.”

“No, I am,” Alya insisted. “It’s just….”

Nino rolled his eyes and dragged Alya’s chair close to his own so that she was sitting right in front of him. He pried the vibrating cellphone out of her hands and threw it on his bed behind them. He grabbed both of her hands between his own and rested them in his lap. “Dude, I know you hate hearing this, but you need to tell her.”

Alya shook her head. “No,” she said resolutely. “No way. Non negotiable.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Nino said. “She has every right to know this.”

“The normal rules don’t apply to this Nino! She is on a date with the boy she’s been obsessing over since I met her. Where the hell does my baggage fit into all of that?”

“It fits into the part where friends tell each other the things that are bothering them,” Nino explained. “If you were agonizing over anything else, you’d tell Marinette in a heartbeat. This shouldn’t be any different. I doubt very much she’d be okay with you keeping something from her, especially when it’s torturing you.”

Alya shook her head. “That’s not fair. This is so much bigger, you can’t lump it in with everything else.”

“Obviously it’s different, Alya. I’m not saying this is easy either. And I’m not saying you should do this right now when you’re not ready. But….you can’t just plan your whole friendship around something this huge. You’re sitting here jealous of her going on a date Al! Friends don’t do this!”

Alya nibbled on her lip and peeked around Nino’s shoulder to look at the phone still vibrating on the bed. “I’m….I-I’m not jealous, I’m just….I don’t….”

“Look, it’s okay to be jealous. That’s normal. _I_ would be jealous too. But don’t you think it’s a little screwed up that you’re battling between being happy for her finally dating the guy she likes, and being jealous that it’s not you?”

“I don’t want her to drop anyone _for me_ , God, Nino! It’s not like it would even happen anyway….”

Nino furrowed his brows. “Not like what would happen?”

Alya laughed mirthlessly. “She….she doesn’t like me. Not like that.”

“You don’t know that — ”

“Yes I do,” Alya responded tiredly. “Trust me, I know that girl inside and out. It’s not even that she prefers him to me, it’s that I’m not even on her radar like that, and I never will be. So it makes no sense to admit something like this to her, when the only thing that’s going to happen is that we’re both going to feel awful at the end of it.”

Nino pursed his lips and took his cap off his head. “I know you say you know her….but these are all assumptions. And they’re going to stay assumptions until you two talk to each other. I mean, what’s the worst that you think is going to happen?”

Alya slipped her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She stared down at the carpet and tried to come up with a way to word her anxieties properly. “I think….” she began. “I think that she won’t feel the same. I think that my feelings are going to creep her out. I think that things are going to change, and that we’re going to drift apart.” She looked up and stared at Nino pointedly. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

Nino took her glasses, folded them up, and placed them on his desk. “It’s a possibility that she won’t feel the same,” he agreed. “But I think you’re scared, and it’s keeping you from considering the possibility that you two won’t drift apart. I don’t think she’s the type of person to push you away like that. Not because of this.”

Alya bit down on her lip hard. She stayed quiet for a long time, watching the loading screen still going on Nino’s computer, and appreciating the fact that he wasn’t trying to force her to speak without her initiating it first. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was too much anxiety getting in the way of her being able to think positively. But fear didn’t always have to be something that hindered you. It could also serve as a way to protect you and everyone else around you. Protecting others should always be a priority over getting what you want.

“If it was Adrien,” Alya muttered. “If Adrien came up to you, and said that he was hopelessly in love with you. That he liked you way more than a friend should like another friend. What would you do? What would you say?”

He took a long moment to answer, but when he did he sounded sure. “I’d tell him that I didn’t feel the same. But that I still loved him. Because that kid is the best friend I’ve ever had. I can’t imagine, not having him around. And it’s gonna hurt him, because not having your feelings returned always hurts. He’d need space, and I’d give it to him. But he wouldn’t lose me. He wouldn’t lose any part of me.”

Alya smiled gently. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“And Marinette’s lucky to have you.”

* * *

  **alya:** sorry girlie i fell asleep. but glad you got home okay. and glad everything went well. call me when you can and you can tell me all about it.

* * *

 Adrien had offered to take Marinette out again the following Saturday, but Marinette surprisingly turned it down and pushed for a Sunday date. She told him that she missed her sleepover with Alya last weekend, and she wanted to make sure she didn’t skip out on it two weekends in a row.

Marinette offered up her house instead and spent the entire morning pouring over her father’s old handwritten recipe books to create a beautiful batch of religieuses, which were Alya’s favorite sweet to pick up from the bakery. They snuck the entire batch into the living room, brought down all of the blankets and comforters from Marinette’s room, and laid them out on the floor of the living room while they streamed through all of the TV dramas, movies, and sitcoms that they’d neglected to catch up on during the week. Marinette’s parents had gone to bed early, which meant that the girls were free to prance around the living room in their underwear, curse as loud as they wanted to, and stay up until the dead of night when they couldn’t keep their eyes open anymore.

“One more episode?” Marinette yawned.

Alya groaned and covered her head with a pillow. “Mmmmmm, I’m like….this close to falling asleep.”

Marinette snorted. “I guess binging six shows in one night isn’t bad.”

“Ugh, your room is so far away,” Alya complained. “Can we just….sleep on the floor? Like dogs?”

Marinette plucked up three pillows and a few of the throw blankets and dropped them on top of the couch. “We could sleep here. We’ll just have to sleep close to each other so we don’t fall off.”

Alya smirked. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want your crazy nocturnal thrashing to knock me to the floor. I might kill you.”

“I don’t _thrash_ you exaggerator.”

“You spread out on every surface you sleep on like you’re French royalty. Just warning you. Don’t kick me off.”

“Meanie. Fine. I’ll sleep on the outside then. Keep you safe from the floor.”

They shut off all the lights to the living room and to the kitchen before they scurried to the couch like little girls and crawled underneath the blankets. It wasn’t the first time they’d ever slept in the same bed, but the couch forced them to get really close to each other in order for them to fit. Alya was pressed against the back of the couch, and Marinette had to drape an arm around Alya’s waist to keep her from falling over the edge. Their legs were tangled together to make space, and their hips were closer than Alya ever remembered them being in the middle of hugs or cuddling in each other’s beds. It wasn’t distracting so much as it was surreal to even have the opportunity to get this close to Marinette without it being strange. Alya wanted to remember every minutia of the moment, simply because something as simple as feeling your friend hold you this close filled her with a buzzing sense of content and satisfaction that Alya never wanted to let go of.

Their noses were lined up almost perfectly in the dark, and the window that was above them was lighting up the living room just enough for Alya to see most of Marinette’s face. Marinette was staring back and leaned in to bump her nose against Alya’s. She snorted in laughter when Alya moved forward to bump her nose back and decided to be brave enough to wrap her arm around Marinette’s waist. “Go to bed, girlie, it’s late.”

“Mmhm,” Marinette sighed sleepily. “Don’t forget though. Shopping tomorrow morning. You promised.”

“I’m not going to forget. Just make sure you wake up on time in the morning.”

Marinette smirked, leaned up to place a kiss on Alya’s forehead, whispered good night, and fell asleep almost immediately. Alya smiled and let herself indulge a little by moving just a little bit closer to press her forehead against Marinette’s. She got a small thrill from doing it — not because she thought Marinette wouldn’t have let her if she was awake, but just because Alya was free to do it and stare at the freckles on the bridge of her nose, at her lashes brushing against her cheeks, and fill her gaze with all of the mounting affection that she could never show to her in public. It wasn’t reciprocated, and Marinette wouldn’t ever see it, but even such a small thing was a relief in its own sense. Opening the door and letting the light in a little on her feelings instead of pulling them out into the open so that they could be scrutinized for Marinette to see. Nino was trying so hard to get her to see the benefits of the latter, but the former kept Marinette right where she was, and it still made Alya thrum with enough satisfaction to placate the struggle inside of her.

She didn’t remember falling asleep — the last thing she remembered was rubbing her thumb against Marinette’s hip before she woke up right in front of Marinette’s face, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows and bathing the living room in a soft, dreamy light that made Alya want to skip their morning shopping trip and stay here for the rest of the morning. It was so strange being this close to Marinette, because laying together like this and having their heads pressed together so intimately seemed so domestic. Of course, she was imagining romance where there wasn’t any, but the moment felt so right.

In hindsight, that was where she made a mistake. Because her ability to keep secrets depended on her ability to keep harmless thoughts as just that — thoughts. It was very easy to project onto their friendship and choose to see things that weren’t there, but Alya dialed it back because she knew how destructive it could be.

She almost expected for the moment that ended it all to be a little more dramatic, a little more ostentatious, a little bit more sudden. But, like everything else with Marinette it was soft. Soft like the sheets they were cuddled into. Soft like the pillows under their head. Soft like the murmur of Paris waking up on Sunday morning. Soft like the small specks of dust dancing in the slices of sunlight. Soft like Marinette’s lips.

It turned from a touch, to a tap, to a kiss that Alya couldn’t stop her half-asleep brain from initiating. And she shouldn’t have, she really shouldn’t have, it was a selfish and horrible thing to do, especially because it was only to satisfy Alya’s own urges, but she’d been bursting from the seams with the pressure of her feelings threatening to mount higher and higher, too high for her to handle. Just the relief of being able to indulge in a kiss so simple made a sigh flow through Alya’s entire body and escape out her nose in a rush of light headedness and self-indulgent peace.

She barely noticed Marinette’s mouth opening, and only realized it had happened when Alya’s lips followed and opened with hers. Still half-asleep and with her eyes closed, Marinette pursed her lips reconnected the kiss. Alya didn’t even think it a problem to press just a little bit more against her lips. They didn’t move from that position, and Alya just kept her lips there instead of trying to turn this into something heated. The simple, warm thrumming of energy in her lips was more than enough for her.

And just like that, everything broke.

Because Marinette’s eyes were open. Marinette was awake. And Marinette didn’t look content or happy or relieved.

She looked utterly shocked.

She immediately sat up and turned her body around until she was face to face with Alya, a look of bewilderment on her face that made it seem as if a fly had zipped right past her nose. For a moment Alya prayed that she’d been too asleep to realize what she’d done, but Marinette brought a hand up to cover her mouth, her eyes searching Alya’s face for an explanation or a justification that she couldn’t even bring herself to provide. And it was then that she realized how horribly she had messed up. How unfair it was to do something like that. How unfair it was to steal something like that without asking. How unfair it was to show your friend such conflicting and confusing feelings in such an unexpected way. There wasn’t even time to mourn the fact that all of Alya’s careful planning had been shot to hell.

Because this was exactly what she’d been terrified of. Marinette staring at Alya like she was a stranger — a friend that she didn’t recognize.

It took Alya swallowing three times before she found her voice again. “....I’m so sorry.”

The apology did little. Marinette slowly slipped her hand from her mouth, but the confusion still remained. It was so obvious she couldn’t pass this off as a friendly, platonic kiss. Not something like this that was stolen in such a tender moment between the two of them. There was no way this could be seen as anything other than what it was. Once that realization came to her, Alya started to truly panic.

She couldn’t see Marinette’s reaction. She couldn’t be here. She didn’t want to see or hear or talk about anything.

Alya flung herself from the couch, slipped into her sneakers without putting on her socks, and  scrambled around the living room to pick up her stuff.

Marinette snapped out of her daze. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go,” she said quickly, stuffing her things haphazardly into her bag and checking for her bus pass. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“Y-You….you can’t just leave. Alya!”

“I’m sorry, I just really need to go home, I’m sorry.”

Alya made her way to the front door where her coat was hanging and quickly put it on over her pajama shorts, not trusting herself to say here long enough to change into something proper. Marinette ambled over the back of the couch and padded barefoot towards her. “Alya, please, let’s talk about this. Come on.”

But Alya was already unlocking the door and jogging down the stairs to the lobby of the apartment building. Marinette was slipping into her shoes, trying to go down the stairs to follow her, but Alya was quicker. Before Marinette could even finish getting down one landing, Alya had already wrenched open the door and hurried out into the cold, her legs freezing from the wind whipping against her bare skin.

She stayed calm on the bus and during the walk back to her apartment. But once she was in her room alone, she covered her mouth with one of her pillows, and screamed until her voice was hoarse.

* * *

**mari:** alya

 **mari:** alya please answer your phone

 **mari:** come on you’re scaring me please pick up

 **mari:** i just want to talk that’s all. i need to hear your voice.

 **mari:** alya?

 **mari:** alya please don’t shut me out i want to understand

 **mari:** pick up

 **mari:** i miss you

* * *

Alya kept her phone off Sunday and spent the whole day sleeping. She only came into the kitchen to grab leftovers from lunch and dinner to eat in her room. She told her mother on Monday morning that she was sick and not feeling well. So she stayed in the house by herself while her parents went to work and her sisters went to school. Marinette was probably only getting up just now and leaving herself five minutes to get dressed and get to class. She could never get up on time on Mondays.

She really tried her best to stay asleep — sleeping meant no thinking, and no thinking meant that she could pretend she hadn’t completely ruined everything and botched the one good thing that had come from moving across the city and going to a new school. But after a certain point, she simply wasn’t tired anymore, and she was left to just stay in bed for most of the afternoon and stay on the Internet to keep her mind busy and keep herself from delving into the areas of her mind that desperately wanted to agonize and postulate on how things could possibly get worse from here.

It was the first time that Alya didn’t even know what to do. She couldn’t keep missing school, but she didn’t think she could handle sitting next to Marinette in class with all of this hanging heavy between them. But she also didn’t think she could possibly bear the brunt of her guilt and embarrassment to even try to clear the air in the first place. It was cowardly and so completely unlike her to be hiding from a _conversation_ of all things. If she could double herself, she would be scolding herself for even trying to run away from this.

But nothing had ever felt this big or this frightening before. The rug was completely pulled out from underneath her and she didn’t know what to do. This was her Achilles’ Heel. This was the one thing that prevented her from being brave and being selfless. This was the one thing that was capable of shaking her deeper than she could’ve ever anticipated.

She didn’t know what to do.

Alya had dozed off in front of her computer at some point, and didn’t realize it until the doorbell had woken her up with a start. It was too early for any of the girls to be back from school, but maybe they’d gotten sent home early for some reason. She forced herself out of bed and undid all of the locks on the door, mentally preparing herself for the tackling hugs she was going to get from her sisters the moment they entered the threshold.

What she didn’t expect was to see Marinette.

Their lunch pause was over ten minutes ago, which meant that she was skipping class to be here. In her hands was a grocery bag and she spoke quickly, as if she were afraid that Alya would shut the door in her face. “In the mood for some crepes?”

Alya frowned and peeked into the bag. They had a silly tradition that whenever one of them was sick, the other would collect ingredients, run to their houses, and prepare their favorite sweet crepes — strawberries and peach jam for Marinette, and chocolate spread and bananas for Alya. Everything she needed was bought and in the bag, and for a moment Alya was wondering if she’d missed something.

Marinette was balancing on her toes, looking more nervous in front of Alya than she’d ever seen her, and that alone was enough to make Alya’s heart sink. “I figured….or I guess I assumed you weren’t feeling well, so I thought….crepes! Just like….you know. Just like we always do.”

Alya licked her lips and stayed speechless, giving time for Marinette to sigh and speak again.

“Can I please come in?” she asked quietly. “Please. I just want to see you.”

She looked so earnest that Alya didn’t have the heart to refuse her, no matter how desperately she just wanted to keep herself locked up in her room and never have to face the repercussions of this. She stepped aside and let Marinette start unpacking her things in the kitchen while Alya locked the door behind them.

Normally, they’d play the radio, turn on the television, or even help each other cook if they were feeling up to it, but this time Marinette cooked in silence while Alya sat in one of the kitchen chairs with her knees tucked to her chest and her back to Marinette. She focused on the sounds of Marinette mixing the batter, spooning the crepes onto the hot plate, and letting the batter simmer on the heat. It was comforting to at least have some noise filling up the empty apartment, and the smell of crepes, bananas, and chocolate were enough to spring her back to those days when she was sick and when this would be the highlight of the afternoon.

Marinette was slathering chocolate on the crepes when she spoke. “I wanted to say I was sorry,” she began. “I….I didn’t really react well, did I? That wasn’t fair to you.”

Alya frowned. _Marinette_ was apologizing? She wanted to kick herself and force her to shut the whole conversation down and delve into the apology that she should’ve been giving since she was the one who messed up, but Marinette continued on before she could manage the words.

“I was surprised,” Marinette explained. “Because, I didn’t think….well, it wasn’t something I was ever expecting. I just….I don’t want the reason that you ran off to be because I scared you by the way I reacted. And if that is why you ran off, I just wanted to tell you that I’m so, so, completely sorry. I don’t ever want to make you feel like you need to keep yourself away from me.”

She’d folded two crepes onto a plate for Alya and laid a fork on the edge. She pushed it on front of Alya and pulled out the chair closest to her so she could sit facing her. Alya cleared her throat and tried to prevent the mortification from keeping her mouth shut. “I-I shouldn’t have done that. I did it without asking. That was horrible of me. I’m sorry.”

Marinette shook her head. “Don’t even worry about that,” she assured. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Honest. Nothing about that was wrong or bad.”

And that should’ve been enough, that should’ve been all that Alya needed to cheer herself up, but the fact of the matter was that Marinette was very clearly struggling to say what needed to come next. She looked so pitiful and so guilty, as if she desperately wished she could give her best friend news that wouldn’t completely break her heart, as if it was physically paining her to have to hurt her like this, and Alya knew the answer before Marinette gave it. “I can’t….I mean, I don’t….I just —”

“You don’t have to say it,” Alya muttered. “I figured as much.”

Marinette bit on her lip, and Alya could see the tears shining in her eyes. “How long?” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alya laughed to release the pressure in her chest, but it wound up coming out more like a sob. “For a while,” her voice cracked. “For a really long while. And you’re my best friend. Honestly and truly the best friend I’ve ever had, I would never want to ruin that, not for the world. I didn’t…. _God_ , I just didn’t want to ruin or _change_ anything, you were too important, _we_ were too important and I went and freakin’ messed it up in just a matter of seconds and now we’re just sitting here like….like….”

The words were rushing out of her quicker than she could keep track, and it was letting her tears start to gently spill over her eyelids and blur her vision. Marinette reached out to grab onto Alya’s elbows and tried to pull her closer. “You didn’t ruin anything,” Marinette told her. “No, no, no, don’t cry Alya, please, nothing’s ruined or broken, you didn’t change anything. Oh, please don’t be upset. Alya…”

And then Marinette’s arms were around her, and Alya’s face was buried in Marinette’s shoulder, and everything hit her at once. She started sobbing freely into Marinette’s sweater and let Marinette pull her into her lap so that she could keep her arms tightly around her. Marinette was keeping a hand on the back of her head and rubbing circles on her back like Alya was a child. But she didn't much care how undignified it looked. It was so often the case that Marinette was crying to Alya, either over the phone or in her lap like this when the stress of school became too much or when her frustrations over Adrien started to overwhelm her. She never let herself cry like this in front of Marinette, never let Marinette try to hug and comfort her when she needed it.

But despite the novelty, and despite how sick to her stomach she still felt knowing that her feelings weren’t returned, it was such a simple relief to have Marinette this close. Marinette came to cook her breakfast, came to hug her, came to let her cry, looked so positively guilty at having had to tell Alya such crushing news because all Marinette ever wanted was for Alya to be happy. Just like all Alya ever wanted was for Marinette to be happy. They were friends who loved each other, and that’s all that they ever really wanted. She was so afraid of losing this, so afraid that her feelings were going to seem strange and unwanted and uncomfortable. And maybe Marinette didn’t feel them right along with her, but Alya wasn’t at all convinced that Marinette’s love for her had lessened.

That alone was able to calm her crying down and turn her face into Marinette’s neck so she could breathe and try to calm herself down. The tightness in her chest from yesterday and this morning finally felt a little looser, a little easier to handle, and Marinette wasn’t going anywhere, not without her.

Marinette pressed a kiss to the crown of Alya’s head and hugged her tighter. “I love you so much, Alya. You couldn’t ever do anything to make that untrue. I promise. We’re gonna be ok”

Alya laughed in relief into her skin, gripped Marinette’s sweater in her fingers, and finally felt safe for the first time in days.

* * *

  **mari:** i know you’re sleeping bc you were crying a lot

 **mari:** but when you wake up i just wanted you to know that i love and appreciate you

 **mari:** you are my most precious friend

 **mari:** i couldn’t face the day without you

 **mari:** we are always going to be friends. forever and ever. till we’re old tired and wrinkled

 **mari:** i swear it

 **mari:** <3


End file.
